


Missing Persons

by leaper182



Series: Forged [14]
Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor spoilers from the TV series and the books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-11
Updated: 2008-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5002267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leaper182/pseuds/leaper182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has disappeared for five days, and Bob is forced to take drastic measures in order to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Persons

**Author's Note:**

> An amazing amount of thanks goes out to gehayi for helping me plan this monster. Another amazing amount of thanks goes out to beachkid, for pointing out stuff and being very awesome. Last, but certainly not least, plenty of thanks goes out to shiplizard, for extensive dialogue help and batting around scenes with me. Thank you very much!
> 
> Also? Accidental Star Wars references are accidental. As is borrowing from, of all movies, the 1995 version of _Sabrina_.

Over the years, I have found the Chicago police can be rather astute and very unobservant, and at times they manage to somehow be both at once.

One particular example occurred when Harry disappeared for five days; while the uniformed officers covered every square inch of his residence, they had not discovered the lab until I deliberately caught someone's attention. Harry's extensive wards on the lab may have something to do with this, of course, as was the fact that the door is also physically designed to appear much like the wall that it is set into.

For now, I stood next to Harry's lab table, debating whether or not I should reveal my presence, or use more "words in the air" as I had previously in order to aid the police, but my conundrum was solved for me when the large, steel door opened, and a head of long, brown curls thrust itself inside.

Lieutenant Murphy was just shy of medium height, with tanned skin and dark eyes, her hair worn loose today. She wore a leather coat over her button-down shirt and slacks, appearing both tasteful and confident while in a position of authority. When she focused on me, her eyes narrowed.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant," I said with a polite nod. "I am Hrothbert of Bainbridge."

She stepped inside, her gaze never wavering from mine. While her ability to intrude may seem unusual -- previous guardians of my skull used more destructive wards -- Harry has been a kinder soul than most, and as such, has always constructed his wards to warn first rather than harm. I was sure that wherever he was located, Harry had probably been notified that someone had breached his lab.

"Hrothbert of Bainbridge," she repeated, sounding suspicious.

I checked a sigh, and nodded. "Yes, milady. Let us say I come from... a very old family." It was the truth, in a sense, but having to explain the extent of my curse would have been troublesome at the very least, and Harry was my priority.

"Yeah, right," she remarked dryly. "You want to tell me what you're doing here?"

"Being remarkably patient, it would appear," I replied. "Where is Harry?"

If my presence had caused her to be suspicious, my mention of Harry made her even more so. "Why do you want to know?"

"I have a vested interest in Harry's well-being," I replied, going through the motion of inhaling, despite my lack of need to do so.

If only she knew how much that was true.

"Then why are you here in his..." She looked around, noticing the contents of the room for the first time. The lab table and the bookshelves were in their normal state of disarray, but thankfully, the lieutenant was shielded from the haphazard method of Harry's organizational skills by the firmly shut cabinet doors.

"This is his laboratory, milady," I explained, taking pity on her. From what Harry had told me of the good lieutenant, she was a skeptical woman who rarely believed in magic unless it was presented to her directly. It was quite possible she did not think Harry would require a laboratory for research purposes. "Please, do not touch anything. Harry is most particular about the organization of his materials." I glanced at the lab table sadly. He really should have straightened up before he left. "Such as it is."

Her dark eyes darkened further at my words, and when she looked at the lab table, she spied my skull resting on the pages of an open book. "What's this?" She walked over, and very calmly, picked up my skull.

I had to set my jaw and resist the urge to snap at her to put it down at once. It hadn't worked with Harry when he was younger, and I very much doubted it would work on a grown woman. "It would appear to be a skull, milady. It looks fragile. Perhaps you could put it down?"

Lieutenant Murphy cocked an eyebrow at me, and held the skull with both hands. "Why should I?"

I sighed. "Harry has many esoteric items in here, and I'm sure he would rather they remained undamaged."

She snorted, and peered at the skull's eye sockets. "Why would Harry need a skull? And why are you so worried about it?"

"Worried?" I asked, trying to remain calm.

She looked unimpressed. "Out of all the junk that's in here, as soon as I zeroed in on this, you started getting worried."

I sniffed. "It's very old, and I'd rather you didn't drop it."

"I think I'll keep hold of it, thanks."

I narrowed my eyes at her. As much as I wished that she wouldn't carry my skull around like a security blanket, she didn't seem inclined to drop it in order to spite me. With my skull out of immediate danger, I nodded once. "Very well, let us return to the original topic. Where is Harry?"

"Missing," she informed me curtly.

I set my jaw, frustration and impatience rising to the fore. "I _realize_ that, milady," I snapped, and suddenly a torrent of words rushed out of me. "He left here five days ago and hasn't returned since. He also hasn't left a message on his answering machine, though that contraption never works well under the best of circumstances. Since the police have seen fit to raid his place of residence, I will assume you don't know where he is either, but since you have more mobility than I, I have to rely on any information you or anyone under your command has discovered." I glanced at my skull when her hand wavered, and I forced myself to remain where I stood. "The patrolmen who have been ordered to 'bag and tag' everything in Harry's office and living space have been chatty, but not concerning Harry's disappearance. Since you yourself are on the scene, and you've miraculously managed to discover Harry's private lab, I can only assume that you've had more success."

"All right," Lieutenant Murphy said, her eyes narrowing. If my tirade affected her, she showed no sign of it. "He left here five days ago. Did he say where he was going?"

"He said that he had a new client," I explained. While my natural inclination over the centuries had been to keep matters to myself, the police of this era required any information in order to be effective. "He hadn't time to give me the details, because he feared someone was in immediate danger, but he'd needed to research a new kind of tracking spell to use, one that utilized sound over the other senses."

"All right," she said slowly, her skepticism plain. "Do you know who the client was?"

"Amanda Stahl," I answered. "Harry didn't take her information down because she came in person."

Lieutenant Murphy frowned. "Do you know what her case was?"

"Only partly," I admitted. "She claimed that she heard a woman scream whilst she was riding the subway, and it sounded to her as though the voice were coming from the tunnel walls themselves. Since she herself is blind, the only lead she could offer was the sound of the scream."

"And Harry made a tracking spell based on a scream?" The lady detective stared at me with open incredulity.

I arched an eyebrow pointedly. "It took a bit of effort, but yes." I motioned towards the lab table, where he'd left his notes and the glass bottle he'd been using. "The notes he used are there. He never cleans up after he's finished."

Lieutenant Murphy approached the table, and set down my skull in order to pick up the pages. As she leafed through them, she began to shake her head. "I can't read most of this."

I pretended to read over her shoulder. "I would be surprised if you could, milady. Most of the principles in the formula are sigils of power."

She looked over her shoulder to frown up at me. "Which means what to me?"

"Absolutely nothing," I said mildly, secretly amused by her consternation. "Merely that this is proof that he was working on a variation of his typical tracking spell." I glanced at the formula, and then pointed at one of the lines. "It appears that the scream he collected from Ms. Stahl indicated that the scream she heard was very faint. Deep underground, perhaps, or far from her position in the tunnel."

"This isn't proof of anything." She sighed, sounding annoyed and resigned. "I need to talk to Amanda Stahl."

I shook my head. "The lady was quite worried about her privacy, and despite the fact that she heard the scream from within the walls of the subway tunnel, she feared for her safety. She left a telephone number with which to contact her, but not a physical address where she could be reached. However, I believe one of your people 'bagged and tagged' the business card from where it was tucked into Harry's desk blotter."

Lieutenant Murphy frowned, reaching into a coat pocket and pulling out an evidence bag with one of Harry's business cards inside, presumably the one I had just mentioned. "A.S. 555-8617?"

I nodded. "That is the one." I debated with myself before inquiring, "The officers that have been here have been very thorough. I do hope Harry's not under investigation from your department?"

"No," she replied. "But his car was found abandoned halfway across the city, and there had obviously been an attack."

Had I a body and blood running in my veins instead of the ghostly shell I presented to humanity, I was sure it would have turned to ice. "Did you find any bloodstains?"

Her dark brown eyes lifted from the card to look at me steadily. "Several. What looks to be human, and some kind of clear sludge. The CSI guys think it might be petroleum jelly."

I frowned, and then thought aloud. "It doesn't sound familiar to me off-hand, but if I can examine it more closely, I might be able to ascertain something about its nature."

I had not remembered I'd an audience until the lady spoke in a flat voice. "You want me to take you to a crime scene. Is that what I'm hearing?"

The idea, I realized, had merit. While the good lieutenant was obviously not Harry, if she could carry my skull with her to the crime scene, I would be able to examine the substances the police had discovered more accurately than mortal scientists. However, I could not resist smiling at her sneeringly. "I assure you, Lieutenant, I wouldn't be able to disturb any evidence at the crime scene. I am unable to affect the physical realm."

The lady detective stopped in her tracks and arched an eyebrow at me. "Excuse me?" she asked slowly.

I arched an eyebrow in return. "I, Lieutenant Murphy, am a ghost. Harry is the caretaker of the vessel my soul is bound to. Do you have any more questions?"

"A ghost," she said, sounding supremely unconvinced.

I nodded patiently. "Yes, milady, a ghost."

She snorted through her delicate nose, and raised an eyebrow at me. "Aren't you supposed to be see-through?"

On its face, it was a fair question, but her skepticism nettled me. "There are some shades that cannot manifest fully, but my circumstances are different."

"Oh, right." She nodded, smiling at me with the exaggerated patience one gives to children and lunatics. I was well familiar with the expression, as I had given it to Harry numerous times when he was a child. "You're bound to a 'vessel'. You do know slavery's illegal in this country, right?"

"Slavery?" I frowned, puzzled by the remark.

"You're the one who said your soul was bound." She eyed the skull, and then picked it up, holding it up with one hand. "And I'm guessing it's to this."

I gritted my teeth. "Slavery might be illegal by America's laws, but with regard to other legal entities, I can assure you it is still very much a reality," I answered quickly. "If you insist on carrying my skull, would you mind being more careful with it? I _am_ concerned about it being dropped unnecessarily."

Lieutenant Murphy frowned again, and before I could stop her, she walked forward and tried to shove me, only to stumble when her hand passed through my chest. I could feel the rippling feel of her solidity, her aura, as it passed through my shell of a body, and when she jerked her hand back, she looked surprised.

"Are you convinced now, milady?" I asked. "Or would you like to try again?"

Her eyes narrowed, and then she took the skull in both hands, examining the sigils of power carved into the crown. "Why should I trust any of what you just told me?" she asked, not looking at me.

"Why should you not?" I returned mildly. "You've discovered me here, in Harry's laboratory, and I've given you information that would be beneficial to your case."

"I only have your word for that," she pointed out. "If you want me to believe in ghosts, I might as well believe in demons. You could be the one who did this to Harry."

I blinked, shocked for a moment before I recovered. When I did so, I narrowed my eyes at the lady detective, my estimation of her rising. "I can see why Harry holds you in such high esteem." I looked down at my skull, cradled in her hands. "The skull you're carrying is my anchor. Part of my curse is that I am tethered to it, and unable to go further. Also, Harry has improved the wards around his home in order to prevent theft."

"You say that, but I have no way of testing that," she stated firmly. "I have no way to prove that."

"You can test the wards at the very least," I pointed out. "Try to open any door leading outside while holding my skull."

"What should I be expecting?" she asked warily, her eyes narrowing.

"Initially, a sense of foreboding, as though eyes were watching you from all corners of the room," I said mildly. Harry and I worked on the improved wards together, and thinking of him made me feel a pang in my chest. Remembering myself and my audience, I continued. "And as you got closer to the door, you'd be gripped by a nearly primal sense of fear. You would most likely think the words, 'I should not do this. I should not be here.' And when you reached out and touched the door, you would find it ice-cold to the touch, no matter the ambient temperature, and locked, no matter what you tried."

The lieutenant looked at the skull in her hands, and then at the steel door leading into the hallway. Thrusting her head out, I heard her yell to her partner. "Hey, Kirmani! I'm going to look at something. If I'm not back in five minutes, check the back door."

I heard Detective Kirmani yell back in the affirmative, and then Lieutenant Murphy slid my skull under her arm and headed into the hallway.

I leaned through the steel door, checking to ensure that Lieutenant Murphy's partner was indeed occupied in the storefront before I followed the lady detective on noiseless feet. I watched her approach the back door, and as I had anticipated, Lieutenant Murphy started to frown. From where I stood behind her, I could see her shoulders tighten as she approached the door. She paused once, shaking her head and stepping forward as if she had to force herself. Breathing audibly, she reached out a hand and gripped the doorknob, jerking it back with a gasp as soon as her skin touched the metal.

"Are you all right, milady?" I asked mildly, taking some small satisfaction in watching her shake her hand to return feeling to it. I was sure the shock to her skin was sharp.

She glared at me. "So you've proved that I can't take the skull out of the house."

I nodded. "The demonstration of the tether would require more space, as I am capable of moving about the building freely. If you wish to remove my skull from the premises, you will have to undo the wards, and in order to do that, you will have to repeat after me."

"Whoa, pal," she said sharply. "I didn't say I was taking you anywhere. Usually people that are 'bound' have a pretty good reason to be."

I nodded slowly. She was very astute, especially when compared to her colleagues in law enforcement. "Quite correct," I said reluctantly. "Harry knows of my past history, but I would prefer not to repeat it to others who I only know by reputation." She looked as though she wished to argue the matter, but I continued. "Needless to say, Lieutenant, we're going to have to trust each other if we wish to find Harry, and the sooner we can find him, the sooner we can make sure he is whole and well again."

She looked me up and down, and I could see her jaw set, her mouth tightening into a line. It appeared that she was as aware of Harry's penchant to find himself in dangerous situations as I was. "Fine."

I nodded politely. "Thank you, milady. Now, the words you need to repeat are the following." I paused to remember the wording Harry had chosen, and then nodded once. "Philos. Polaris. Agape. Solemanus. Adoro. Etquam. Eroso. Quo."

Lieutenant Murphy took a deep breath and reluctantly repeated them, pronouncing each word with more care than I'd expected.

"Try to open the door again," I instructed. "This time, it should click open before you touch it."

She reached forward for the door, and as I had said, the lock undid itself, and the door swung silently open. "I still haven't discounted the possibility that you're controlling this somehow," she warned me.

"I am unable to work magic as a ghost," I replied, my patience finally wearing thin in the face of her stubbornness, "but if it makes you feel better to believe I am more than a shadow of my former self, you are certainly welcome to your own opinion. When we arrive at the crime scene, tell me." With that, I blurred into a trail of fire and swirling black smoke, returned to my skull, and consigned myself to emptiness, my thoughts lingering on Harry.

***

In the emptiness, I felt a light tug on my name, my essence, and I slid out of the skull, reforming into my physical shell a few feet away. Looking around, I found myself on a semi-empty street, the darkness of the night obscuring my admittedly unusual entrance. The moon shown pale and full, illuminating the yellow police tape, as well as the asphalt road on which I stood.

Lieutenant Murphy stood nearby, looking from my skull to me, her eyes carefully trained on me as though she were expecting me to attack her. I frowned, scanning the environs for the blood spatter of which she had spoken of earlier, but did not immediately see it.

"Lieutenant," I said, nodding to her. "Where is the blood spatter?"

She did not answer me immediately, and when she did, she slid the skull under one arm and focused on me. "It's over here." She moved to a patch of the road that had been hidden from the moonlight, close to the mouth of an alleyway.

I nodded in thanks, and then moved over to the patch. Squinting, I managed to find one patch of dried blood and rubbed my fingers together, preparing myself to interpret the essence of the blood. I reached out and laid my hand on top of it gently, closing my eyes. I could feel the lieutenant's gaze on me, and when my physical body changed to that of Harry's, I looked up at her, curious to see her reaction.

"My God..." she murmured, her eyes wide and dark in the moonlight.

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "I hardly think that Harry is at all godly, but if you wish to think so, I'm sure he'd find it amusing."

Lieutenant Murphy's gaze hardened, losing its surprise. "Very funny. So, you look like Harry. Does that mean that's his blood?"

I nodded, lifting my hand from the blood and feeling my physical form revert back to my own. "It does."

"Do you know if he's dead?" she asked. I was surprised to hear a note of deep concern in her voice.

I shook my head. "This ability only allows me to manifest what being an organic substance originated from, not whether the originator is still alive."

Her eyes narrowed. "Harry's used your ability before, hasn't he." Her question was more of a statement of fact.

I nodded in the affirmative. "For one or two of the cases he worked on with the Chicago police, as well as other cases he has undertaken, yes. Are there any other traces of blood?"

She nodded, and then pointed to another patch, not far from Harry's. "Here, and the jelly stuff that the CSI guys couldn't get is over here."

I took note of both locations, and then moved to the other patch on the asphalt. "My thanks, milady."

"Look, if we're going to be working together, just call me Murphy," she suggested.

I arched an eyebrow up at her, my hand hovering over the second patch of blood. "I see," I said politely, clearly not seeing understanding what I might have done to offend her, but as I have learned over the centuries, women the world over are complicated creatures.

She nodded once, and then looked pointedly at the bloodstain. "Ready?"

In reply, I rested my hand on the stain, and then felt myself blur into a woman. She was in her thirties, with long hair, a runner's form, and wearing a sweatsuit with sneakers. I looked at the lady's body, and then up at Murphy curiously. "Do you know this woman?"

She blinked, and then shook her head. "No, but hold still." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small device, which I realized was her cell phone. Flipping it open, she pressed a button on the side, frowned, and then pressed the button again. There was a small whirr-click, and I raised an eyebrow.

"What did you just do?" I asked curiously.

Murphy did not look up from the small phone, instead pushing buttons until she swore under her breath. "I tried to take a picture of you, but it didn't work."

"I am a ghost, after all," I replied reasonably. "Ghosts tend not to photograph well. Perhaps it is because the physical form is not substantial enough to fool the camera into believing something is there."

She frowned at me. "Believing something's there?" she snorted. "Cameras don't 'believe' something's there. Either it's there, or it isn't."

"Such is the nature of technology, I suppose," I said, shrugging. "The lady, whomever she may be, seems to be human."

Murphy arched an eyebrow, and then shook her head, closing her cell phone and sheathing it, pulling out a pad of paper from the inside of her leather coat. "Blonde, 25 to 35, blue eyes... could you stand up?" I did so, keeping my foot in contact with the dried blood, and waited until she was finished writing down the woman's description. She nodded once, and then I nodded in return, moving away from the bloodstain and returning to my physical form.

"That's pretty handy to have," she remarked slowly.

I nodded. "It can be, certainly, though the ability does have its limitations. I do not know who the woman is, nor what she was doing when she bled here."

The lady detective nodded slowly, as though trying to tell if I were speaking the truth. I ignored her in favor of the patch of asphalt she had said was where the unusual jelly-like substance had been found.

I knelt, and then rested my hand against the substance. I opened my eyes, feeling my neck elongate into something uncomfortably familiar, an over-large serpent with wide dark eyes and long, dripping fangs. I turned to Murphy, whose eyes had widened as she stepped back from me, and I hissed at her once, very loudly.

Jerking my hand away from the dried substance, I went through the motion of taking a deep breath to calm myself. There are some creatures that I have 'read' before, for lack of a better term, but they were never as highly unsettling as this. It felt too inhuman somehow. Once, I had manifested into a werewolf, but the young woman who had been turned had been human beforehand. This creature, whatever it was, had no concept of humanity at all.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Lieutenant Murphy asked in a low, hard voice.

I shook my head, shivering where I knelt. "I'm not entirely sure, but whatever it was, it was here." I frowned, and then held my hand close to the substance again, making sure not to touch it again. "There is more of this substance..."

"More?" she asked. "Where?"

I followed the trail closer to the alleyway, and then found myself staring at a manhole covering, the edges nicked and scarred by something inhuman. "Here."

Murphy frowned at the sewer lid. "The sewers?"

I nodded, and then a chilling thought occurred to me. "Oh, dear."

"What?" she demanded. "What is it?"

I ran my hand lightly around the manhole cover, and then through the solid object as though it were nothing. And then, I found what I'd dearly hoped I wouldn't. My form blurred into Harry again, with my hand embedded in the metal, and I swore under my breath. "I believe I may have found our culprit in Harry's disappearance."

"Wait, what?" Murphy asked, holding up a hand as if to stop me from speaking further. "I thought you said that he'd been tracking a sound in the subway. That's what Amanda Stahl said."

I shook my head. "I merely said that the sound _may_ have originated in the subway. With the tracking spell, Harry would have had a better opportunity to track down the source of the sound, and it must have led him here." I looked at the sewer lid. "I sincerely hope that you have a flashlight and plenty of ammunition."

The lady's eyes narrowed as she looked at me. "Why do you say that?"

"I have a very uncomfortable feeling about this," I said.

Lieutenant Murphy did indeed have extra ammunition and a flashlight in her vehicle, as well as a crowbar that she used to pry the manhole covering out with some difficulty. As she climbed down, I spiraled down the ladder, illuminating the antechamber as best I could before re-forming at the base, already kneeling to find more of the mysterious substance.

We traveled down the tunnel for a short distance, the lieutenant pinching her nose with one hand while she held a flashlight in the other. I stopped for a moment, and then moved away, toward a wall.

"Hrothbert?" Murphy said with a frown. "What're you doing?"

I looked up, a bit surprised to hear her address me with my full first name. "The trail leads here, milady."

She shot me an annoyed look, and then joined me at the wall, shining her light over the wall. It appeared to be crumbling, and when I shoved my hand through it, I could feel the the structural integrity was fairly weak, especially when compared to the rest of the wall. Frowning, I walked through the wall to the other side, glancing around as best I could in the darkness. "Murphy," I said over my shoulder. "There seems to be an antechamber here. It is a different make than the sewers."

"I hate to burst your bubble, Hrothbert," she said with exaggerated patience, "but I can't walk through walls."

"Of course you can," I replied. "The wall you face isn't as strong as it appears. Push through, and you should be able to join me."

It took a few minutes, and I realized that instead of the decay and neglect I had envisioned, the bricks and mortar crumbling due to sheer age, the wall had been entirely breached and the hole sealed with rocks and small pieces of debris. I watched as she crawled through, curious at her approach toward dismantling the wall. When she made her way entirely into the new room, she stood and dusted herself off.

"Not as strong as it appears?" she asked snidely.

I frowned, and then inspected the pieces she had removed. "Ah." I said, realizing what they were after a moment. "I can only presume that this neighborhood has fewer strays than most."

"Why do you say that?" I could almost hear the frown in Lieutenant Murphy's voice.

"The wall you just crawled through consisted of animal bones," I replied, eying one small skull. I stood, and turned to face the lady.

"What?" she asked, her voice sharp, the light from her flashlight flicking up to land on my face, too bright in the darkness surrounding us.

"Try not to think about it overmuch, Murphy," I said gently. "We must keep moving, but beware. I believe we have entered part of Undertown."

"Underwhat?" she asked, scowling at me.

"I will explain, but I do suggest we press on," I said, motioning behind the lady.

She obligingly turned, but I could feel her attention on me as we walked. After a few feet, the antechamber narrowed, and soon, the walls appeared rougher in texture by the light of Murphy's flashlight, and more curved.

"So?" she prompted.

I nodded. "Undertown is an area of Chicago where dark creatures have been known to dwell. It is exceedingly dangerous for most who are not supernatural in nature, and even for some who are," I said.

"So, what is this, some kind of pocket dimension or something?" she asked.

I was surprised by the question. "Nothing quite that elaborate, Lieutenant." I paused, and then attempted to look at her in the darkness. Since the only light in the chamber emanated from her flashlight, which she kept held low and aimed at the ground, I could barely see her form, let alone tell her expression. "How familiar are you with Chicago's history?"

Her form shifted in the form of a shrug. "I know a bit. Why do you ask?"

"Well, the area on which the majority of Chicago sits is a swamp, essentially," I explained. "When the area was first settled in the 1770s, the people noticed that the buildings continually sank into the swamp, and so they were forced to build atop the lost structures. As this continued over the next two hundred years, the citizens of modern-day Chicago are literally walking over a city of buildings and structures, lost to time. Due to the number of ley lines threading through the city like so many ribbons, it made sense that when the supernatural came to inhabit Chicago, one of the first places in which such creatures would choose to dwell would be Undertown."

"So, you're telling me that we're going to bump into a lot of ghouls and stuff down here?" Murphy asked, her tone hard.

"I'm not sure about ghouls specifically, but the last time Harry was forced to come down here, he encountered a vampire."

"Vampires don't exist," she said firmly.

"With all due respect, milady," I said chidingly, "you're carrying on a conversation with a ghost, as you traverse through a portion of Chicago which is largely unknown to the citizenry, trying to find a wizard who has most likely been captured by a serpent large enough to devour you in two bites. Are you truly going to attempt to deny the existence of other monsters and creatures that you've learned of through fairy tales?"

She fell silent at that, and it was then that I heard a grating sound. It sounded distant, but I noticed that the lieutenant froze at the same time I did. I saw her form shift, and then the flashlight wavered until she lifted both of her hands. She still carried the flashlight in left hand, but now she carried her gun in the other.

"Hrothbert," she whispered. "You know what that was?"

"No," I admitted in the same tone, "and if you insist that I call you Murphy, please, call me Bob."

"Bob?" she asked, the fear in her voice diminishing.

"Yes," I replied. "Here, allow me to go first. If there is something ahead of us, I shall return to warn you."

"Bob--" she said, but I moved ahead of her, my feet making no noise on the floor of the tunnel. I continued forward for some distance, running one of my hands through the curved wall beside me. Since any walls or creatures will glow temporarily when my physical form comes into contact with them, I was able to use the light to scan for any markings that more territorial creatures would have made.

I reached the end of my tether before I found any such markings, and I swirled into black smoke, returning to Murphy's side instantly.

"Murphy--" I began.

She jumped, and flicked the flashlight up to shine the light in my face. "Give me a little warning before you pop up out of nowhere," she growled. "What is it? Did you see something?"

"No," I said slowly. "I reached the end of the tether before I saw anything, man or creature."

The light lowered to the floor, and when the lieutenant spoke, she sounded hesitant. "You don't sound pleased."

"I'm pleased not to have found any inhabitants..."

"I'm hearing a 'but'," she replied, not liking the sound of it.

"But I should have encountered _something_ by now," I told her. "Even if it were something harmless. Undertown is teeming with supernatural life. Harry would never have come here willingly, and he has a habit of diving headfirst into situations that nearly get him killed." I tried not to think of any such situations, but three such incidents sprang to mind with alarming speed.

"Maybe we came across an uninhabited part of it?" Murphy suggested.

I shook my head. "I should have seen something by now, Lieutenant. Trust me."

She sighed gently, and brought her light to bear again. "So, we get in, scout around, and make it fast--" Her voice cut off quickly, and I could hear an odd, gagging noise.

"Murphy?" I asked, a bit alarmed.

"God, what's that _smell_?" she demanded. The light wavered as she waved one hand in front of her face, presumably to waft away the offending odor.

"I wouldn't know, milady," I said as patiently as I could. "I'm rather incapable of smelling anything. Does it remind you of anything?"

"I... yeah," she said slowly. "There was this one double homicide, a few years back. Elderly couple, strangled in bed, nobody had found them until a week later..." Her voice trailed off, and I could see her shadowy form tense. "Wonderful."

"Lieutenant," I said slowly, "we need to proceed cautiously. Perhaps if we discover the source of the smell, we can figure out why this section of Undertown appears to be deserted."

"Thanks for the advice," she said caustically, but I noticed that she forced herself to relax.

"Which way, milady?" I asked.

"Ahead of us," she said. As I moved to walk in front of her, she stayed where she stood. "Wait, we need to leave some kind of marker behind, so that we know we came this way."

I shook my head. "What if the creature which damaged these walls were to return to this place, and find evidence of our passage?"

"Then what do you propose we do, Bob?" she demanded. "Even if we manage to find Harry down here, we could be wandering around lost for hours, and you said we needed to move quickly."

"Part of the curse that binds me to the skull also enhances my memory," I explained. "I will be able to remember the way back to this spot with little difficulty."

"You're sure?" she asked.

I nodded. "Positive. Shall we press on?"

We proceeded down the hallway, pausing every once in a while for Lieutenant Murphy to smell the air and make sure she was headed closer to the source. The floor started a downward slope at some point, and I mentioned this to her before she could fall and hurt herself, but other than our sparse comments to each other -- I warning her of any hazards, and she asking if I remembered the way we'd come, we took a half-dozen twists and turns. Each time we heard the rasping sound through the walls, I would scout ahead to ensure the lady would not encounter trouble, and then we would continue onward. At some point, the walls began to show the signs of significant humidity.

"Bob," Murphy said slowly, and I saw her lower her gun and tug at something near her neck, presumably her shirt. "Is it me, or is it getting hot in here?"

"I wouldn't know about the temperature, but the walls are showing a great deal of dampness." I motioned to one wall to illustrate my point. "Perhaps it's the humidity?"

"Maybe," she said, sounding ill. "Let's keep going. I think we're getting close."

"Very well."

We continued for a few feet before the light from Murphy's flashlight fell on a patch of pink slime on the floor in front of me. I frowned, and then followed the trail toward a room with a narrow doorway, the two sides of it resembling large slabs of rock than any finished construction. Murphy shown her light on them, and then shined it inside the room.

"I think this is it," she gasped out. "Dresden better be in there."

I arched an eyebrow at her before stepping inside the room, my shoulder blurring through the heavy rocks easily.

The room inside was at least as large as Harry's living area, and somehow darker than the tunnels we had just traversed. As the lieutenant slid her way inside, she shown the light around the room, revealing curved walls covered with beads of water, bones and skeletons littering the ground in various stages of decay, and what appeared to be a large curtain of ropes bisecting the room. There were also, I noted curiously, scraps of cloth littering the floor as well, looking new compared to the corpses surrounding us.

As Lieutenant Murphy approached the ropes, they parted for her, revealing more of the same, as well as a rise of bones at the edge of a pool of greenish water. As we watched, large bubbles broke the surface, and the ropes began to sway towards us. They passed through my body easily, but when one such rope brushed against Murphy's arm, it paused, and then swayed back.

"Murphy," I said sharply. "Step away from those ropes, and move toward the entrance."

I saw her turn to me, and she appeared ready to argue, but something in my tone must have caught her notice.

She stepped back as I had instructed, and when she reached my side, she shown her flashlight back at the ropes. "Okay, now what?"

"Do you have those lights with you?" I asked. "The ones that you break and leave behind? I believe Harry called them chemical lights, once?"

In reply, she reached into her pocket, and I heard her break one. The shadow of her arm moved quickly, and then she was illuminated by an eerie green glow. She looked at me expectantly.

I nodded. "How many more do you have?"

"About three more. Why?"

"Use two of them," I instructed. "I want to see what we're dealing with in its entirety."

She shot me a look that clearly said we would speak of this matter later, but she did as I asked, spreading them around the room in such a way as to allow both of us to see the apparatus clearly. As she worked, more bubbles popped and burst, and when she finished, she drew her gun. Moments later, we heard the splash of water and labored breathing.

Lieutenant Murphy froze before moving to the edge of the pool, shining her flashlight on the water before I could warn her against it. The water churned and roiled, as though somewhere were under the surface. "Hello?"

More bubbles rose and popped, and then a human head broke the surface of the water, sucking in air quickly.

" _Harry!_ " I shouted, stunned and alarmed.

Murphy shot me a startled look before grabbing one of the ropes. I turned just in time to see the rope twine itself around her arm quickly.

"Murphy, your weapon! Shoot it!" I shouted.

To her credit, the lieutenant didn't hesitate. She took aim and shot the rope about a foot above where it had wrapped itself around her arm. The rope jerked as though in pain and recoiled immediately, slithering back upon itself toward the ceiling. The other ropes began to sway toward her more noticeably now.

Shots rang out as the lady fired her weapon, but I was surprised to find that she did not take aim at the ropes themselves, but rather at the ceiling where they descended from. More of the ropes recoiled and slithered upwards, and when her gun clicked empty, she dodged and rolled out of the way, using the chance to gain distance and reload her sidearm.

I, on the other hand, descended into the water and tried to see why Harry was incapacitated.

I have not had much occasion to go underwater before, mostly because my previous masters had never needed to deal with as many life-threatening situations as Harry does. As a result, I had a few moments of disorientation as my eyes attempted to make sense of a blizzard of swirling bubbles, water currents, and flailing limbs. I could see that Harry's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, as were his generous lips, and his hands were locked around a rope that gripped his throat mercilessly. He managed to work his long legs furiously, breaking the water long enough to suck in more air before the rope forced him under again.

I lifted my head out of the water and looked quickly over my shoulder at Murphy. "Lieutenant!"

"Little busy here!" she shouted back, dodging one rope that snapped at a spot where her head had been moments before.

"I need you to shoot a specific spot! Can you do that?" I asked.

"Sure, just let me get my laser scope, and we'll see what happens, shall we?" she snapped back.

I glared at her, resisting the urge to say something snide, and then looked up at the ropes. Swirling into the fire I became whenever I descended back into my skull, I shot upwards towards the ceiling, illuminating the cavern room with brilliant, red-orange flame. I heard more shots ring out, and finally, more of the ropes recoiled, lashing through my fiery form harmlessly. I descended back to the ground, and I saw Lieutenant Murphy run forward, reaching the edge of the lake and grabbing Harry as he tried to clamber out. With a truly herculean effort, she dragged him from the murky depths and helped him toward the room's exit.

Suddenly, the room began to rumble, and then a deafening roar that was almost too loud to be heard adequately sounded. Harry and the lieutenant were barely able to keep their feet.

I then realized what the room truly was. "Oh, dear."

"Bob?" Harry managed weakly, looking at me with considerable shock.

"Later, Harry, we need to get out of here," Lieutenant Murphy snapped.

Harry shook his head sluggishly. "My staff," he wheezed, and I looked to where he pointed.

"Here, Murphy," I said.

She rolled her eyes, but let go of her grip on Harry long enough for him to grab it and lean on it. He then turned to the collection of ropes, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, and then snarled, " _Fuego!_ "

The ropes, which I had come to realize weren't actually ropes, burst into flame and withered before our eyes, and another earth-shattering roar began, the sound ricocheting off the walls and ceiling. I saw Murphy clap her hands to her ears, but Harry merely winced a little before the power of the sound.

"Harry," I said sharply. Whatever trance he had been under, he snapped out of it and looked at me.

"What the hell are you doing out of the house, Bob?" Harry demanded.

I shook my head. "You may chastise me later--"

"Move, Dresden," the lady barked, taking charge of the situation. "Now."

He followed the command in her voice, and soon, we were out in the tunnel again.

The lieutenant turned to me. "Which way, Bob?"

I nodded down the corridor to our right. "This way." Thus, we began our harried escape from the tunnels.

Initially, I thought we would encounter as little resistance as we'd received upon arriving, but the loud rasping sound we'd heard earlier sounded as we moved, each time growing closer and closer. I saw Harry and Murphy trade worried glances, and soon we were forced to stop to give Harry a chance to get his wind back.

"Are we almost back at that entrance, Bob?" the lady demanded.

"We're approximately halfway there," I told her before turning to Harry. "Harry, have you seen a long serpentine creature anywhere in these tunnels?"

Harry sucked in a few deep breaths and nodded. "Grabbed me."

I frowned. "Does it, by any chance, travel through the walls?"

Lieutenant Murphy's eyes widened. " _That's_ what we've been hearing?"

"And it's getting closer," I confirmed. "How did you get away from it, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "Didn't." He breathed deeply a few more times. "Dumped me there."

I shuddered. I had an idea of what would have happened, had the creature been successful in finishing off Harry. The leftovers would have been given over to the serpent to keep it fed, which accounted for the scraps of cloth I had seen strewn over the bones covering the floor. The woman that Harry had been tracking must have met her end there.

"What were those things?" Murphy asked.

"Some sort of feeding apparatus," I explained. "We were inside of a creature's mouth. Which kind of creature, I am unable to say."

There was another loud rasp, close enough to cause Harry to jump. "Let's go," he barked. "Bob, you're on point."

I nodded, and then blazed into a silent comet of fire.

I led the way through the twisting and turning tunnels, keeping track of the serpent in the walls by the volume of the rasping it made as it tunneled through Undertown toward us. I was forced to divert our escape a few times in order to avoid the serpent, but soon, the hole that Lieutenant Murphy had unearthed was down the corridor, a dim spot of hope in the darkness surrounding us.

Just as suddenly, the tunnel wall to my left rumbled and roared, and soon, a sleek, serpentine body burst into the corridor, blocking our path. I dove quickly for the creature's eyes, wrapping the fire and blazing light around its head. The creature let out piercing cries of pain, and then I heard Harry shout, " _Forzare!_ "

The creature was thrown back a good thirty feet, I keep pacing with it in order to dance in its eyes and keep it blinded.

" _Forzare!_ " came another shout, and the creature was thrown back again with another burst of invisible force.

I heard running footsteps and after what felt like an eternity of swirling around the creature's head, I felt my name being called, and then I found myself shunted into my skull, the long-familiar emptiness embracing me mercilessly.

***

I felt my name called in the limbo I exist within when I am inside of my skull, and I emerged to find myself in Harry's loft bedroom, manifesting a few feet from the bed. I frowned down at the bed, where Harry lay, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and even, and then at Lieutenant Murphy, who stood near the bed, watching Harry with gentleness in her eyes.

"Lieutenant Murphy?" I said gently.

Her shoulders gave a small twitch, and then she looked up at me, her gaze steady. "Bob." She nodded once.

"What has happened?" I asked her.

She frowned, looking surprised. "Don't you know?"

I shook my head. "When I return to my skull, I am unaware of what transpires in the physical world."

She blinked, and then looked down at Harry.

"Is Harry well?" I asked, looking down at him as well. While he did not appear injured from what I could readily tell, except for one long burn around his neck, appearances could be deceptive.

Murphy nodded. "Yeah. He was half-drowned when we found him, but other than that, he's okay. Just tired."

"After spending who-knows-how-long fighting for his life, I cannot blame him," I remarked. "How long has it been since you escaped?"

"About two hours, give or take. I brought Harry straight here after we got out of the sewers, and he insisted on a long shower. _I_ insisted he needed food."

"And the woman?" I asked, fairly sure of the answer but desiring confirmation.

Lieutenant Murphy sighed. "Harry said that she'd been eaten by the thing in that room."

I nodded, unsurprised but knowing that Harry would feel responsible. "And, of course, Harry feels responsible that he could not save her in time."

She glanced up at me and nodded. "He was kicking himself all the way back here. And he really wanted to kill that snake."

I smiled a little. "But of course."

She smiled a little as well, and turned to look at Harry. "Thank you."

I raised both eyebrows at her. "For what, may I ask?"

"For helping me save Harry," she answered softly, gesturing to the sleeping man somewhat unnecessarily.

I shook my head. "You have no need to do so, milady. I was more than happy to help."

She looked me in the eye for a long moment, and asked, "You've never gotten to do that before, have you?"

I didn't pretend to misunderstand what she was asking. "No," I said simply.

"But... you've wanted to." The words could have been a question, but the tone came out matter-of-fact.

I nodded, my eyes lingering on Harry's unruly hair, the eyelashes resting on his skin, the generous lips relaxed in sleep. "More times than you could possibly know." I admitted softly.

She turned to look back at Harry. "He's going to be okay, Bob."

"His injuries were not as serious as I'd originally feared," I agreed.

Murphy shook her head. "No, not that. I meant..." She paused, and then sighed in annoyance. "I don't know what I mean. It's been a long day, and I've got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me back at the station."

I turned to look at her, noticing that her hair was wet and curling. "You're welcome to stay, milady. I'm sure your employers wouldn't begrudge you some time to rest."

The lady shook her head, though she appeared that she wished to take me up on the offer. "I can't. Harry's back, he's safe, and now life gets back to normal." She turned away from the bed, looking up at me. "You going to make sure Harry stays in bed?"

"As much as I am able, milady," I said wryly. "Harry hasn't willingly followed my orders since he was a child."

Lieutenant Murphy shot me a curious look. "How long have you known him?"

"I served Harry's uncle, Justin Morningway, before guardianship of my skull passed to Harry."

She blinked, surprised. "So when Harry's father died, you met Harry when his uncle took him in. You've known him for..."

"Twenty-six years," I supplied. "Though there were years when he was traveling that we did not speak as often as I would have liked."

"Wow," she said, clearly impressed. "What was he like as a kid?"

"Shorter," I replied. We shared a smile, and I continued. "He has changed little since he was a child. He was very inquisitive, just as stubborn, and just as likely to get himself into trouble as he is now."

The lady detective snorted. "Why am I not surprised."

"Because you've come to know Harry rather well," I said, smiling. "Are you sure you don't wish to stay? I'm positive Harry wouldn't mind."

Murphy shook her head. "I wish I could, but I can't. I'll swing by later, though, make sure you guys are doing okay."

I frowned, a bit puzzled. "I can assure you that I'm well."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Sure," she said, her tone anything but believing. "I'll make sure to bring Harry something to eat, too. His fridge wasn't that well-stocked when I checked it."

I nodded. "Thank you, milady."

She nodded back. "Sure thing." She glanced at Harry. "Take care of him, all right?"

"I shall try."

I watched her gingerly descend the staircase to the first floor, and after a minute or two, I heard the back door open and close. I turned back to the bed to find Harry's eyes fluttering open.

I moved to stand next to him, kneeling down so that I was more or less close to his face. "You should rest, Harry."

Harry hummed a little with a lazy smile, sounding like a great cat purring. "In a minute."

I sighed gently. "Really, Harry, you've been missing for nearly a week. You need your rest."

Harry's eyes remained half-lidded, indolently sleepy as he shifted in the bed. Until this moment, I had not realized that my skull had been cradled against his stomach. I must admit, I felt touched by the gesture. "'M good." He blinked a few times, and then he focused on me, his dark eyes intent. "You didn't write words in the air this time?" he murmured.

Had I the ability with charcoal, and the means to use it, I would have captured the moment for eternity. Due to my limited means, however, I drank in the sight and committed it firmly to memory. If remembering what Harry looked like in that one moment, temptation given mortal form, meant giving up hundreds of years of magical research, I would count it as a necessary loss.

I shook my head. "I couldn't. I couldn't direct Lieutenant Murphy to your exact location."

He frowned, the gesture looking almost adorable on his stubbled face. "What about you staying a secret?"

"There are times when the rules are meant to be broken," I said simply. "Saving my guardian from a creature of the deep counts, I imagine."

He frowned again, and then rolled over onto his back, lifting up my skull without thinking and holding it close to his chest. "What _was_ that thing, Bob? Do you know?" He stared into the skull's empty eye sockets.

I shook my head. "I'm afraid not. We were inside of the creature's mouth, which made identification rather difficult."

"But you saw the snake-thing, right?" he asked, glancing at me.

I nodded. "I did, indeed. It bore a certain resemblance to the demon you encountered--"

"A couple months ago," Harry finished with a sigh. "I know."

"It appears whatever creature had sent that demon was also responsible for the serpent," I reasoned, standing up. "And now, Harry, you really should get some rest."

Harry rested his head against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know if I can."

I had an idea of what else was on Harry's mind. "The lady's death wasn't your fault, Harry."

"That room was _covered_ in bones, Bob," Harry half-whispered. "Why didn't anyone find out sooner?"

"I don't know, Harry," I said, keeping my voice gentle. I had a number of theories as to why no one had noticed the disappearances sooner, but Harry did not need to hear them now, not when he needed to recover from his experience. "Sleep, Harry."

Harry looked up at me solemnly. "Is it going to be better in the morning?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," I said just as softly. "I truly don't."

He nodded once and rolled back onto his side, setting the skull upright before wrapping an arm around it possessively. "Night, Bob."

"Good night, Harry," I said. "Sweet dreams."

I watched him for a long moment, and when I was satisfied his breathing had evened out, and he was well and truly asleep, I turned my mind to other matters.

I had initially thought that the serpent tunneling through Undertown had resembled the shape that the demon had assumed when it had been attacking Harry's mind, but had dismissed it as mere coincidence. Now that I had Harry's confirmation as to the shape the serpent had resembled, it appeared that Harry could well and truly be facing mortal peril. Whoever or whatever had commanded these two beings was considerably more powerful than most of the supernatural creatures that Harry came into contact during the course of his investigations, and that chilled me to the core.

Harry was going to be facing a creature that I doubted _I_ would have been able to best on my own, were I still mortal and capable of using my power.

I turned back to look at his face, relaxed in sleep the way it rarely looked when he was awake, and I debated the decision I had reached less than two months ago, when I had finally cornered Harry. I had thought that he had been falling into Darkness, avoiding coming home unless it was absolutely necessary so as to avoid my condemnation of his actions, but when he had confessed his love for me....

I had yearned to do the same.

I could not, however, much to my regret. My love had destroyed my beloved nearly a millenium before, and I wouldn't damn Harry to the same fate. While I was a ghost now, powerless to affect the physical world, let alone tap into my own talent for necromancy again, admitting my love for him would have chained him to me for the rest of his life. He would have let obsession consume him as it had me centuries before, and if he made the same terrible mistakes I did, his fate would have been no better than mine.

I would never sentence someone to the torture I experience, and am fated to experience, for the rest of eternity.

There were days, months, even years, when I longed to hold him in my arms. When Justin Morningway's doppleganger had returned me to mortality, and I had been able to carry Harry to the mortician's slab, touch his cheeks with my hands, it had been bittersweet.

To learn, after all this time, that he had yearned for me as I had when he first returned home, his shirt clearly defining his chest, his jeans too short in the leg, his shoes weather-beaten and nearly worn through... it had almost been too much to bear.

But I cannot touch his face. I cannot hold him and protect him against his nightmares. My beloved's defenses are damaged, and he has no one to watch over him except a ghost who hasn't the sense not to fall in love with the tall, dark, handsome man that his student has become.

How can I protect him when I cannot do something as simple as touch his hair?

I cannot. And so he must not know how deeply I care for him.

While I am resolute in my decision, there are times when I find myself waver, most often when I watch Harry sleep. He appears so innocent and defenseless that I want nothing less than to give him hope, give him strength.

And even now, when I know he will need the strength to fight the coming battle, I cannot give it to him.

I gazed my fill on his sleeping form, closed my eyes, and then returned to my skull, wishing for once that instead of feeling the bland emptiness of limbo embrace me, I could feel the warmth of his arms.


End file.
